Fallen Angel
by QueenPaige
Summary: One can only imagine the thoughts going through John Watson's mind and emotions he was feeling on that tragic day, the day Sherlock Holmes fell. A bit of twist on the last episode of season 2, but not making it any less sad.


**Hello everyone, this is my first fanfic! And by that I mean first one I've ever written EVER. Never thought of myself as much of a writer of any kind but I decided to give it a go anyway.  
**

**I'd be forever grateful for any reviews, especially ones with constructive criticism!  
**

* * *

Today was the day, he couldn't keep this in anymore. The time they'd know each other felt like an eternity, even more so by the fact he had been holding in his feelings all this time. His feelings toward the mystery that is Sherlock Holmes.

John Watson sat in the back of a cab headed to St. Bart's after learning Mrs. Hudson was unharmed, not wounded by a gunshot as the call he had gotten had reported. He was curious about the false alarm but that mystery was put aside for the time being, he would have time to ask Sherlock about it later.

Leaning back in his seat, trying to relax, John watched the buildings of London flash by. Though he looked calm he was feeling the exact opposite. John worried about Sherlock's reaction to what he was going to say, Sherlock wasn't one for showing much emotion but John was almost certain he'd react, at least in his own little way, to this. Especially seeing how unexpected this would surely be. John had put on a pretty good act of hiding his affection, if he did say so himself.

These thoughts didn't have too much longer to float around in his head for the cab had slowed to a stop and the ex-army doctor's mind went blank of everything but the task ahead.

He stepped out of the cab and absent mindedly started straightening his shirt collar, and other appearance enhancing tasks, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the ID and broke into a grin when the name of the man who had been occupying his thoughts since the day they met flashed on the screen.

Clearing his throat, he answered.

"Sherlock? I'm right outside, I'll be in a second—" only to immediately be cut off by "John. Stay right where you are."

"What's wrong, Sherlock?" the grin disappearing from his face as he heard the tone of his best friend's voice. It was a worrying mix of apologetic and resigned, two emotions rarely shown by his flatmate.

Something was definitely wrong.

Sherlock's voice came from the phone again "John, turn around and look up." after a slight pause, the command was obeyed.

At that very moment, John's world crashed down around him "No… Sherlock, No."

The sight that greeted him was the silhouette of a tall man standing on the roof of the hospital. There was no doubt in John's mind that it was his very own Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock, don't, hold on I'll be right there" were the stumbling words that came from his mouth before the only friend of the consulting detective tried taking a step toward the building.

"Stop. Stay where you are and watch me, don't take your eyes off of me." The tall man's commanding tone caused John to freeze in his tracks.

In the following moments John held onto ever word of the instructions and explanations his best friend was giving him about being a fraud and Moriarty just being a fictional nemesis that he'd created. He told John this was his suicide note and that he had to promise to tell everyone these things.

"No, I know this isn't true, you aren't a fraud! Everything is going to be fine, just don't…" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Silence fell between the wo before there was a sigh "This will be better for everyone, Trust me John."

"Will nothing convince you to stay?" John was starting to get desperate, it was starting to feel closer and closer to the end. So he swallowed his pride in one last attempt.

"Not even… I love you?"

In that moment, Sherlock was glad he couldn't see his flat mate's face. He didn't have to. He could perfectly imagine the sad, honest, look in his eyes as his beloved blogger said the three words that tore the heart out of his chest. Even more than that, he was glad John couldn't see his grip tighten on the phone and the way the consulting detective's face twisted in pain from what he was about to do to his best friend.

"Goodbye, John."

The next moments seemed to play in slow motion, the man on the roof dropped his phone before stepping into open air and John felt himself running, as if to catch his earthbound friend.

He wasn't sure if he had cried out or how he had ended up face down on the asphalt but John, hysteria driven, scrambled to his feet and over to Sherlock's motionless body on the sidewalk.

People were trying to hold him back but until he was able to check for life on his fallen friend, he wouldn't let them.

He grabbed the wrist of his flatmate…

Nothing.

As he let the bystanders lead him away from the body of his dark fallen angel. He didn't notice, he only felt the world become very cold and very… very…

Empty.


End file.
